Addicted; ʜᴀʏʟᴇʏ. ᴍ

0.9

Paxon Pack, Early Morning

IN THE LONG escapades of time she had sat behind a knife, dwelling on the matters of a storm or the stillness, Mazeki had always found herself drawn to chaos rather than peace. She punished herself more than anyone else, she expected the most, she settled for nothing less than the best, and when your only cheerleader stood inside you, screaming to do better. It weakened your restraints. Slowly, yes, but a thousand years was very slow. Even more so when you lived for the people around you rather than a life of your own.

Given more and more reason, the last year had given and given on the many reasons she needed to less her reigns. If Esther's games had proved nothing less, she'd say it were only a waste of time. All of her was at war, inside her body, even when she weren't paying attention.

She breathed in calmly through her nose, extending out her chest as she rested her palms up along her thighs. She tilted her head back. Every inch and nerve drawn out and feeling, the closest to alive as they had been in a very long time. Her blood and her victims pumped through her, igniting her skin to a hot touch. The taste of their fear layered her senses like a second skin, they were still vibrant on her.

She smiled slowly, unnaturally to anyone who'd look. It were not amused, it were not kind, or even malicious. It were nothing. A pull of her mouth for an unknown meaning, because of an unknown source.

Clenching her fingers tightly into the palms of her hands, she felt the movement of the air shift, the unseeing animals now on edge as she tilted the world on its axis.

In and out.

She relaxed her breathing, her body uncurling as she rested her hands. The air grew breathable after some time, and slowly she blinked to regain her vision.

"You're just as impressive as I remember." Arthur's words drew a smile, as she deterred from the sun to face his elated face with blurry colours.

"Many years of practice will teach you balance." She noted, pulling on her own legs to cross them even more tightly, before linking her fingers to rest in her lap.

Arthur sat across from his daughter in confused but extreme content, watching the peace within her gaze. Unaware what drew such level headedness from the now red headed woman.

"I have a few questions I'd like to ask you." Those jade eyes wove secrets and plans that all were unaware too.

"You are free to ask me anything you'd like my Warrior."

"Artemis, who's taking care of her?" She hummed.

He looked at her with an arched brow, Mazeki were a skilled liar and manipulator. But much like her birth father she wore an instant tell between her cheek and eye. A distinct twitch that the man across from her read immediately.

"The entire pack contributes to her well being." He answered her with vagueness that left her grumbling.

"Yes of course, all family on all fours, however I mean to mention her direct bloodline. Her parents."

He was climbing to his feet by now, and she was watching in authentic curiosity. Wondering just how to get the right answers out of him without angering anybody. "Her mother, Angel. Why are you curious?"

He extended his hand to her, helping the heretic climb to her feet as she swayed only slightly on unsteady legs. "I can not show interest in the lives of my distant some removed cousins?"

He smiled at her, that fatherly grin the was between a sense of catching something and being proud. One where he stared down at her and she recalled what it were like to be six years old and staring up at Mikael. Before she understood pain, or love. Or the thin line separating them.